Half Past Eleven
by Linnn
Summary: One dance and half an hour to midnight. Flattery might just get a Weasley somewhere.


**(A/N: After about thirty-seven random ideas in my head, I picked this one out and tried to develop it, a Christmas fic! Well I can't say I don't hope you like it, that's completely ridiculous.)**

"Yowwwwwww," said Ginny Weasley in her best American accent, stretching before plunking herself onto and empty seat beside Draco Malfoy at the Slytherin table.

"Don't do that," Draco raised an eyebrow, the slightest trace of a smirk on his perfectly featured face.

As she scowled and made to shove him playfully, the floating Daily Prophet opposite her lowered with a crisp, crunching sound as Blaise Zabini's quizzical face came into view.

"He's right, you know," he said ruefully. "You sound terrible when you say that." Harrumphing indignantly, Ginny stuck her nose up in the air. "You're just jealous that Hermione isn't as good a kisser as I am," she teased, stealing the pumpkin juice that Blaise had just poured for himself.

"You – fine, have it." Blaise reached for another goblet, tipping more juice into it, only to have it taken away swiftly by Draco ("Thank you, my beloved servant."). "What! You're all – " He silenced himself, giving up completely. "And just so you know," he continued, "Hermione's a better – "

"Oh, save me the need to throw up and finish your breakfast coffee," Draco said, bored. Ginny sniggered in a very good imitation of Crabbe. "Yeah, Zabini, Draco and I have been lucky enough to survive all those centuries when you've been rambling on and on about," she paused for dramatic effect. "_Hermione," _Ginny gasped, looking awestruck.

"Oh shut up!" Blaise snapped at the pair who were laughing their heads off. "You were the one who made me go out with her, mind you." He nodded to Ginny who swallowed her toast so fast that she almost choked.

"_I_ made _you_?" She stared at him incredulously. "You were the one who dated me just to get close to her, anyway!" Draco gave a little shudder. "What I still don't get, Blaise, is how you could put up with a – "

"_Don't_ call her a mudblood, _Malfoy,_" Ginny shot him one of her very own death glares. Blaise cleared his throat. "As I was saying, I didn't plan for it to happen! I just sort of… fell for her. I wasn't using you!"

Ginny raised an eyebrow. "Yeah, right. Right. Like I'm buying that – "

"Jealous, are we?"

"No! You weren't boyfriend material anyway. Just like a brother, and a mighty prick of a brother," Ginny huffed.

Draco stared at the both of them. "I don't get how you two could break up and still maintain a friendly rela – "

"Yeah,_real_ friendly," Blaise said sarcastically.

"Draco's right," Ginny shrugged. "I don't come down to the Slytherin table just to fight with you, anyway."

"Then for what?" Pansy Parkinson leaned over, wrapping a protective arm around Draco. Blaise and Ginny both mimed puking into their plates, while Draco looked as though he really would throw up.

"For telling you to get out of my bloody way because there's _no__way_ I'm letting your filthy hands touch me again!" said Draco, disgusted. Pansy took her hands off and pouted, which made her look like a cross between a bulldog and a shriveled tomato.

"You've changed!" she whined. "You weren't like that in our Fourth Year!"

"Leave Draco alone, Pansy. He's got more on his mind than to deal with time-wasters," said Ginny disdainfully, twirling her hair round her fingers because it would only piss Pansy off more.

Blaise snorted as Pansy retaliated. "Why not _you_ leave Draco alone, Weasley?" she sneered. "He'd be more than happy to get rid of a sickening slag – "

"You have no fucking idea so shut the fuck up, Parkinson." Draco's voice was like a machine gun and Ginny couldn't help but notice his eyes that were a stunning silver-blue when he was angry. Pansy winced, but said nothing. Giving Draco a look that spelled grudging defeat, she turned on her heel and stormed off.

"Oi," Ginny nudged Draco. "You look sexy when you're angry," she kidded.

"Flattery will get you nowhere," said Draco cockily.

"Oh, I think it just might."

Blaise coughed loudly. "Oh, great. Now my ex-girlfriend's flirting with my best mate. Real convenient, you know."

"Shut _up_, Zabini," they both said in unison. "It was a _joke,_" Ginny rolled her eyes and muttered something that sounded like 'talk about jealous'.

"Morning, Blaise. Ginny, Draco," Hermione Granger beamed at the trio, dumping a large pile of Astronomy, Muggle Studies, Herbology, Charms and Ancient Runes books on the table, beside Blaise.

"Hey, Hermione," Ginny grinned at the pair who were holding each other close to themselves. Draco merely shook his head. "This is too surreal. Look at this: Blaise Zabini, obnoxious Slytherin, going out with Hermione Granger, know-it-all Gryffindor. And before that, Ginny Weasley, who's best mates – sorry, friends, with all of us. Unbelievable."

"You find a lot of things unbelievable," Ginny said, "But I like it like that. For once, I get to be Ginny. Not Ron's little sister, just… you know, _Ginny._" Hermione frowned and untangled herself from Blaise. "Ginny, you're not – "

"Don't bother, Hermione," Ginny said gently. "It's OK. I just feel so lucky to have Draco who treats me like myself. And Blaise," she added unconvincingly.

"How touching," Blaise remarked, crossing his arms. "Now that – "

"We've already established the fact that you're not jealous, have we not?" said Draco.

"I'm not!" said Blaise, offended at the sardonic expression Hermione was eyeing him with.

"Then quit acting like you are!" Draco raised an eyebrow. "We're just friends." Ginny felt a small surge of disappointment, but shrugged it off as fast as it came.

"I'm_not_ jealous, and I'm _not_ acting like I am! It's you people who – "

"OH, SHUT UP!" Hermione said through gritted teeth.

"Fine, fine!" said Blaise sulkily.

"Are you all going to the Christmas party tonight?" she asked, changing the subject.

"The one at the Room of Requirement?" Draco questioned, boredom evident in his tone.

"Yeah," said Ginny, draining her goblet. "The Masquerade thing. I think I'm going, because you know I can never – say no – to a parrrrty," she punctuated every two or three words with a click from her fingers.

"Honestly, drop the American accent already," Blaise groaned, picking up the Daily Prophet yet again.

"You're just jealous," Ginny declared, "that you haven't got a mask to hide your ugly face." Blaise looked up dumbly. "We're wearing masks?"

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Ginny stared back at her reflection in the mirror. Skinny, twelve year-old Ginny Weasley was now a grown… girl (she never liked the sound of 'woman') of sixteen, with pale skin, not too elaborate curves in the right places and a light dusting of freckles just below her creamy-brown eyes.

She smiled down at her outfit, a gift from Fred and George who were making millions (not literally) now that their shop was getting more famous than ever.

It was a strapless dress of gold silk that flowed down, stopping just above her ankles in a neat flare.

Deciding that she would be late for the party if she didn't hurry up, Ginny put on her mask and made her way towards the fifth level.

The party was already in full swing by the time she'd gotten there, so she hastily straightened her dress and wandered around, appreciating the music that seemed to be coming from nowhere, mistletoe and the huge window that overlooked the falling snow behind the castle.

"D'you want to dance?" asked a tall, dark haired boy that Ginny recognized to be Blaise. "Blaise!" she said, giggling. "Why would you want to dance with me? Shouldn't you be with – " she paused yet again for the dramatic effect when he cut through her, "Hermione. Yes. She's getting drinks, and _I_ don't want to dance with you," he said smoothly, leading her across the room.

"There we go. Have fun, now," Blaise grinned and shoved her in front of a blond-haired boy, dressed in a crisp, white, dress shirt and casual black slacks. "Oi!" she shouted after him, annoyed. "Git," she rolled her eyes as a slow beat began to play, although Ginny thought it was horribly cliché.

Turning back to the boy in front of her, she gasped when she realised that resplendent-blue eyes were staring back at her. "Dr –!" she was silenced by his searing touch, and almost at once she felt her knees weaken as a very appealing scent that she doubted did not belong to him washed over her.

Her mind was all fuzzy and she couldn't think clearly. Draco had been her best friend for quite some time, but she couldn't deny the fact that he always made her feel embarrassed and conscious of herself. She suddenly became aware of how close her body was to his, and admiring the way he was lean and hard made her thankful for the fact that she wasn't pressed against some buff, muscular body like Harry's. Ew.

As the music began to fade away, Ginny glanced at a clock on the wall. Half past eleven. Weren't they supposed to take out their –

"You do know we're supposed to take out our masks at midnight, don't you?" Ginny felt her heartbeat accelerate and herself melt at the closeness of his voice. "Yes," she said in a high-pitched voice. "W-why?"

"Just wondering," he murmured, and closed the gap between their lips. Ginny's head went woozy and the room began spinning, and she held on to his neck for support as her heart threatened to shatter against her ribcage.

When he broke the kiss, she felt the room begin to come into focus once again as she clutched his upper arms, feeling all wobbly. "W-what I muh-meant to say was," she giggled, as he led her out of the Room of Requirement. "w-why wait till midnight… _Draco_?"

He paused.

"Excellent idea, _Ginevra_. And by the way, your red hair is unmistakable."

**(A/N: I hope the last line and all is alright, as is the rest of the story. Please, please review! Should I continue, or should I just leave it as it is?)**


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